


Giddy Up

by wanderingflame



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Flirting, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Sappy, Schmoop, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-10 02:07:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11117658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderingflame/pseuds/wanderingflame
Summary: Just a lonesome cowboy looking for some fun with a handsome stranger.





	Giddy Up

McCree lifted the glass of whiskey and breathed in deeply. The bar he'd come to carried good quality stuff by the smell. He took a sip and smiled. Better than what he'd left at the base. Sneaking out had been the right choice.

It wasn't that he didn't love his team but every now and then a man needed some peace and quiet. Needed to be a nameless nobody in a bar full of strangers, with only a glass of good whiskey and a cigar for company. He'd have put his boots up on the bar if he didn't think it would get him kicked out.

As he took another sip, he caught movement by the door. Old habits made it hard to relax completely but he tried not to stare as he observed the newcomer. It was darker by the door, but he could see a man, a little on the shorter side but broad-shouldered. The newcomer seemed to hesitate, maybe torn on whether to walk back out. A second later he squared his shoulders and headed for the bar.

McCree fought the urge to whistle as the other man approached. Sharp, refined features and a thin, trimmed beard that made McCree feel shaggy in comparison. Most of the man's black hair was held back up in a short ponytail but one piece fell free on the right side of his face. The gray near his temples made McCree think the man might be closer to his own age than first glance suggested. And those eyes... They scanned the bar with care, as if looking for targets or enemies.

 _That's trouble for sure_. A slow smile tugged at McCree's lips. _And trouble's my middle name_.

The stranger approached the bar, taking the stool one away from McCree. He spared the cowboy a cool, assessing glance before turning to signal the bartender. McCree used the distraction to look his fill.

His first guess had been right: the man was solidly built, muscles moving temptingly beneath the long-sleeved v-neck shirt. As the bartender fixed his drink, the man glanced at McCree again. This time the cowboy saw ink peeking out from under the shirt, brushing along the man's collarbone. He had to swallow as his mouth went dry.

“Is there something you want?” The voice matched the rest of the package: deep, accented, and coolly distant. Still, the words gave McCree the opening he needed.

“A bit of conversation with you would do me just fine, actually.” He put on his best smile as he slid off his stool and onto the one beside the stranger. “Ain't often I see someone as fine as you around here."

The man raised a thin eyebrow but instead of replying, he turned to the bartender, who had arrived with his drink. White wine, by the looks of it. Not McCree's first choice but he'd buy another if it kept the man there with him.

When he returned his attention to the stranger, he caught the other man eyeing him with a familiar heat in his eyes. It was quickly banked once he noticed McCree looking, but there was no doubting it was there. Feeling bolder, McCree leaned on the bar, relaxed and smiling and (hopefully) oozing sex appeal.

“You new in town?” he said.

The other man sipped his wine, not looking at him. “Passing through.”

“How 'bout that. We got somethin' in common already.”

A glance his way. The heat flickered again and McCree felt an answering warmth roll through him. He lowered his voice as he leaned closer.

“I'd say we got somethin' else in common, 'less I'm mistaken.” He aimed for a throaty purr, hoping to melt the remaining ice in the other man's demeanor.

Those dark eyes fixed on him now, lips pressed thin. “You are very forward.”

McCree chuckled. “I'd say 'confident', but I'll take any compliment I can get from you, darlin'.”

The other man snorted quietly, reaching for his wine. McCree took another sip of whiskey, wondering if he should press his luck. The stranger hadn't brushed him off completely, but he wasn't exactly asking for more. As McCree tapped off the ash from his forgotten cigar, he caught the other man looking at him again. There was hunger in those eyes for sure. McCree allowed a slow, appraising smile to slide into place.

“You look mighty strong for a little thing.” The other man's eyes narrowed and then widened as McCree leaned in close enough to catch a whiff of his shampoo. “I bet you could ride me so hard, they'd have to take me out back and shoot me.” He winked for added effect, hoping for a laugh or at the very least a smirk. Instead, the other man looked away, toying with his glass for several long, tense seconds. When he spoke, his voice was low and serious.

“I do not think I can do this, Jesse.”

McCree's heart stopped, the fun draining out of him in an instant. Those weren't the kind of words a man was ever ready to hear, let alone a few weeks into a relationship that had taken months of dancing around to get to. Before his heart could shatter completely, Hanzo continued.

“I simply cannot pretend we are strangers when you are such an important person to me.”

The breath McCree had been holding left him in a rush. Hanzo glanced up at the sound and Jesse now saw the faint flush coloring his cheeks. The archer was rarely embarrassed but always defaulted to tense and uncomfortable, as he should have known.

He fumbled with his words, trying to save them both. “Hell, darlin', ain't nothing a man can say to argue with that. Not like I'd want to anyway.” A dopey smile tugged at his lips as he remembered what Hanzo had said. He ducked his head to hide his own embarrassment. “Weren't nothing but a silly idea anyhow.”

~

It had seemed like fun when he proposed it. They had both brought with them haunting pasts to Overwatch. Why not abandon that for one night? Pretend to be just a restless cowboy and a lonely traveler coming together for some steamy fun between the sheets? Hanzo had seemed reluctant at first but McCree was slowly learning how to win him over.

“What is the point?” Hanzo's eyes were narrowed, not in anger but frustration. It was as if the question was a puzzle he couldn't figure out.

“It's just roleplay. The point is to have fun, that's all. Adds a little thrill to things.”

“I wasn't aware we lacked 'thrill'.” Hanzo's voice was flat, his arms crossed.

“Aw, sugar, you know I didn't mean it that way.” He had to kiss away the other man's frown but with a little more wheedling—and plenty more kissing—Hanzo had rolled his eyes and given in.

“ _Fine_. You are an impossible man, Jesse McCree.”

“But I'm _your_ impossible man,” Jesse murmured against his mouth and felt the answering smile.

~

“I am still not sure I understand the point,” Hanzo murmured, bringing Jesse back to the present. He continued to turn his wine glass, staring at it fixedly. “Would you...prefer I was someone else?”

The question was spoken softly, a fragile thing that lay between them. Jesse suddenly felt like an ass for having ever brought the idea up. He reached out to free one of Hanzo's hands from the stem, pulling it towards him. Hanzo's gaze followed, wary and uncertain.

“Darlin', I love you just fine as you are, you know that. Or you should.” He pressed a kiss to Hanzo's fingers. “I'm not interested in anyone else.”

A pleased smile flickered across Hanzo's face before he tucked it away behind his usual cool persona. He straightened in his seat, sparing a disdainful look for his wine.

“If the 'roleplaying' is done, I would like to go home. I find I'm in the mood for something else.”

“Whatever you want, sugar.” Jesse knew where the sake was stored and he hoped with that, and a few moves of his own, he might smooth over this mess he'd made.

They both stood and Jesse tossed back the rest of his whiskey, not wanting to let it go to waste. As he set the glass down, Hanzo leaned in close enough their chests almost touched. Jesse blinked, waiting for the burn in this throat to recede before he spoke.

“Hey there, handsome.”

“Is the bet still on?”

The murmured question bucked Jesse's brain like a wild horse. As he struggled to catch Hanzo's meaning, the other man plucked the Stetson from his head and settled it on his own. The band was just large enough for it to fit over Hanzo's ponytail. When he looked up from under the brim, dark eyes glittering with the hunger he'd banked before, Jesse felt something in his chest flutter, even as heat pooled lower.

“About how hard I could ride you,” Hanzo clarified, his crisp enunciation making the words somehow more searing.

Jesse gaped. The smirk he'd sought with his flirting before now curved Hanzo's lips. The sight made his heart flip before his brain finally collected itself. 

“Oh, you betcha, darlin'!” He grabbed Hanzo's hand and hurried for the door. “Hell, I reckon even if I lose, I'll win something.”

It was easier to hear Hanzo's quiet laughter out on the street. In the still evening air, Jesse reeled the other man in by their clasped hands. He wasn't used to ducking under the brim of his own hat but Hanzo kept it in place with one hand as they kissed languidly, just enjoying the moment. When Jesse pressed closer, demanding more, Hanzo nipped at his lower lip and stepped back.

“Giddy up, cowboy.” He smirked as he spoke, but there was a faint blush across his cheeks.

Jesse's heart swelled even as he let out a whoop of laughter. Hanzo rolled his eyes but the look in his eyes was fond as he pulled his partner towards home.

 

**Author's Note:**

> McCree is intended to be an unreliable narrator in the beginning, as he's trying to play his part in this roleplay. This started out as: “Wouldn't it be funny if they tried roleplaying but Hanzo couldn't keep a straight face?” and then suddenly all these FEELINGS butted in. Anyway, thank you for reading!


End file.
